


We Knew This Was A Possibility: Or, the one in which Arthur and Eames militarize MI6

by QueenThayet



Category: Inception (2010), James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Banter, Community: inceptiversary, Crack fic that kind of exploded, Crossover, Dom!Q, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Inception Bingo, M/M, Multiple Partners, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Post-Inception, Sensory Overload, Snark, Sub!Bond, Suit Kink, hints of D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 01:35:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7665211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenThayet/pseuds/QueenThayet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, The one in which Arthur and Eames meet an ex, discover several new kinks, and have a sexy adventure in London. </p>
<p>“Okay. Could someone please explain to me why the Quartermaster of MI6, who supposedly wasn’t militarized, has a projection of my partner’s ex-boyfriend guarding his subconscious against dreamsharing?” Arthur glared at everyone in the room, waiting for an explanation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Knew This Was A Possibility: Or, the one in which Arthur and Eames militarize MI6

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swtalmnd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/gifts).



> So this whole thing started when I was on tumblr and saw amysnotdeadyet’s call for three word prompts for either A/E or 00Q. And I came up with “Dreamesharers militarize MI6.” And then I wanted to write it instead. There are definitely some influences from earlgreytea68's Keep the Car Running series here. 
> 
> I thought this was going to be sort of a quick and dirty little crossover that would fulfill my “multiple partners” square for Inception Kink/Trope Bingo. And instead I wrote 2k of A&E fluff and then A&E porn that fulfilled two other squares before finally getting 00Q in there. And somewhere in there I ended up writing plot, sort of, or at least backstory. And then I was at 8k words before we were even approaching the multiple partners angle. 
> 
> Many thanks to @mahons-ondine who beta'd the first part of this for me and offered helpful suggestions for finishing. And a huge thank you to everyone on the inception slack chat for listening to me complain about this eating my life, and who gave me many delightful ideas. The cherry was all amysnotdeadyet's idea. 
> 
> Warning: mentions of suicide and psychological injury.

Eames looked around after the hood was removed from his head. “Was all this cloak and dagger nonsense really necessary?”

“Well, we _are_ spies, Mr. Eames,” the attractive black woman who had collected them said dryly.

“You’re going to let us run around inside your head, but you can’t let us know where we are?” Arthur said, raising an eyebrow.

“And what a lovely head it is,” Eames flirted automatically.

“Mr. Eames, do you normally flirt with people who could kill you?” An older man, slightly balding, had walked into the room.

“All the time. I assume you’ve heard of Arthur? Deadliest man I know. I flirt with him constantly.” Eames waggled his eyebrows at Arthur suggestively. Arthur rolled his eyes in response.

“So why _are_ we here, Mr....” Arthur paused, waiting for the man to share his name.

“M”

“Okay. Why are we here, Mr. Em? Your associate was not very forthcoming. Just that it was a matter of national security. For a nation that doesn’t happen to be mine,” Arthur continued.

“It’s just ‘M.’ And I’m aware that you are an American, Mr. Branch, if that’s the name you’re using currently. But your partner, Mr. Eames, was once a member of Her Majesty’s Special Forces, and we were hoping he might still retain a shred of patriotism. If not, I’m sure you’re both aware that he happens to have quite a few outstanding warrants, under a variety of names. I trust that that will prove to be sufficient motivation. Because you are the best, Mr. Branch. And we need the best.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow at Eames. “Sorry, pet,” Eames said quietly.

M continued smoothly, not giving Eames a chance to say more, “Should you willingly offer us your services, we will be happy to remove any existing legal issues Mr. Eames faces in the commonwealth. And pay you your usual fee, of course.”

“What’s the job?” Arthur asked. 

“We need you to militarize the subconscious of one of our key staff.”

“Why exactly do you need _us_ to do that? The military has plenty of dreamsharers who can militarize a subconscious, I know the project wasn’t abandoned even though my squad disbanded” Eames asked, suspiciously.

“Not who can protect against inception.”

***

Arthur and Eames were left alone while M and the woman he called “Moneypenny” left to fetch the person they wanted militarized against inception.

“Is it even possible to militarize against inception?” Eames asked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t even think inception was possible. You were the one who was convinced we could do it,” Arthur responded. “You’re the one who did it, in fact.”

“And it nearly got us all killed, or sent down into limbo. I don’t bloody well want to do that again,” Eames snapped. 

“Calm down, Mr. Eames,” Arthur said mildly.

“Why are you so bloody calm about this, Arthur? Shouldn’t you be furious about this? At me? I’m the reason you’re even here.”

“I knew what I was getting into when I threw my lot in with you. And quiet honestly, it’s not nearly as bad as I expected. A simple militarization job and your British, Canadian, and Australian warrants get erased. And we get paid. Other than some light kidnapping, I don’t see the problem.”

“You’re forgetting one thing, darling, we don’t actually know how to militarize against inception,” Eames pointed out.

“No one before us was even able to do inception. We’ll do a thorough militarization and help train the person in lucid dreaming. If they are familiar with the idea that it’s a dream and they know how to control it, they’ll be less likely to fall prey to inception. The key to inception is to make the person believe it’s their own idea, right? Well, we make it so they don’t trust anything in their dreams.”

“That sounds... reasonable. You’re being very reasonable, pet,” Eames said, running his hands down Arthur’s arms. Arthur relaxed into the contact for a minute before straightening back up.

“I’m fine, Eames. Let’s just do this job and go home,” Arthur said quietly.

“Ah, but which home, that’s the question,” Eames said, smiling and pulling Arthur closer. He tended to respond to stress, either his own or Arthur’s, with greater physical contact. It could be a bit trying on jobs, especially if they were working with a team that wasn’t aware of the biggest open secret in dreamsharing. Of course, that was one of the reasons they rarely worked with unknowns if they were working together on a job. Everything went more smoothly when Eames could snuggle Arthur a bit when he was stressed. And when Arthur didn’t have to spend his energy and focus keeping his distance.

Arthur closed his eyes and let Eames hold him. No point in keeping his professional distance when their governmental kidnappers/clients were clearly aware of their relationship. “Mmm, Paris I think. Definitely not London after this mess.”

“You do love Paris. And we can check up on Ariadne, see how she’s settling back in to civilian life.” Eames nuzzled against the back of Arthur’s neck. “I’m sorry for the mess, darling.”

“It’s fine. We knew this was a possibility,” Arthur responded. 

“We knew that being kidnapped by the international spy division of my country’s government and blackmailed into militarizing someone against inception was a possibility?” Eames stopped kissing Arthur’s neck, pulled back, and stared at him in confusion.

“Now you give me specificity, Mr. Eames?” Arthur said wryly, “No, we knew that we would be each other’s weak points.”

“I don’t like that I’m your weak point, darling. I’m frankly uncomfortable with the idea that you even have weak points.”

“It’s impossible to eliminate weak points, Eames. We’ve had this conversation. And I’d rather you be my weak point than people digging around to find my mother. Or using Dom and Mal’s kids against me. I trust you. You’re brilliant, and extraordinarily competent, and you’ve gotten yourself out of all sorts of scrapes.”

Eames looked touched and delighted. “Arthur! That may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!” He pulled Arthur closer against him and began nuzzling his neck.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Get ahold of yourself, Mr. Eames. I’m sure we’ll be rejoined by our clients momentarily. And I’m absolutely sure that we’re still being watched.

“Ooh, kinky,” Eames teased, grinning, relieved that Arthur wasn’t angry with him. 

“As charmingly inappropriate as that is, gentlemen, we did actually bring you here to work.”

Arthur jumped away from Eames as if he’d just been caught feeling up a member of the trumpet section on the back of the band bus. Much like that event, embarrassment didn’t seem to be the only reason for his blush. Arthur ruthlessly pushed that feeling down to examine at a later, safer, less kidnappy time.

“Mr. Branch, Mr. Eames, I’d like you to meet Q.” M had reentered the room with a slender, young-looking man with glasses and a messy mop of dark hair.

“It’s just Arthur. And doesn’t anyone have names around here? Why are you all just letters?” Arthur said tartly.

“Q is for Quartermaster, pet,” Eames whispered “MI6 uses code names.”

“Fine, whatever. Nice to meet you, ‘Q’. How much do you know about what we’re here to do?”

***

This was the best part about militarization jobs to Arthur: you could be forthright with the client. No lies. No deception. No surprises. Which explained why Arthur was so furious. 

They had gone under with Q to introduce him to dream sharing. Arthur started them in one of his basic training levels, an office building. Q and Eames weren’t with him where he appeared in the building, but he saw Q’s messy hair across the atrium. He started to approach him, when out of nowhere a tall blond man in an excellent suit and a deadly looking gun (Arthur always had time to admire good tailoring and weaponry) stepped out in front of Q. Arthur grew concerned. It definitely wasn’t one of his projections, and it made no sense for Q’s projections to be armed. Suddenly, he saw Eames walking up on the other side of Q. The man with the gun aimed at Eames’ head as Eames reached for Q’s shoulder. Instead of reacting, Eames just stared at the man like a deer in the headlights as he was shot in the head. “Fuck,” Arthur spat out, running across the atrium of his training building, drawing his own gun. The man with the gun turned and began shooting at Arthur. One bullet hit his shoulder, which hurt like hell, but didn’t stop him from shooting the projection in the head, followed by Q and then himself.

“What the fuck was that?!” Arthur shouted as he regained consciousness. “Why didn’t you warn us you had already been militarized? We are trying to HELP you here! We can’t do that if you withhold vital information. Which was stupid anyway because it became obvious as soon as we went under! And what the hell was that?” Arthur turned his fury toward Eames. “Is there a reason you suddenly forgot how to handle yourself against murderous projections?” 

“Sorry darling, I didn’t expect to run into an ex pointing a gun at me in a training dream. Caught me a bit off guard. Won’t happen again.” Eames looked embarrassed, running his hand through his hair.

“Wait, what?” Arthur stared at Eames. And then looked at Q, and then back at Eames.

“The fit blond bloke in the suit who shot me,” Eames clarified, without actually adding any clarity to the situation.

“Okay. Could someone please explain to me why the Quartermaster of MI6, who supposedly wasn’t militarized, has a projection of my partner’s ex-boyfriend guarding his subconscious against dreamsharing?” Arthur glared at everyone in the room, waiting for an explanation.

“I haven’t been militarized,” Q offered tentatively. 

Arthur turned his gaze to focus on the young man. “Then why, exactly, do you have projections with guns guarding you in a completely non-threatening dream scenario?” Arthur’s tone suggested deadly consequences if he were lied to (ignoring the fact that he was being held against his will by a foreign government’s intelligence bureau). 

“Um, I think because I trust James to protect me? And I know it didn’t seem threatening, but that’s sort of the whole point, isn’t it? That dreams seem non-threatening so that you can win the mark’s confidence and either extract information or plant an idea? So even something non-threatening is still threatening. I read quite a bit about it.” Q sounded more confident as he continued answering, withstanding Arthur’s glare.

“Lord save me from well-read geniuses,” Arthur groused, putting his face in his hands. “Okay, so you automatically felt threatened by dreamsharing. We can work with that. That will actually help you. Next question: who is James, why do you trust him to protect you, and is that something someone could use against you in a dream? If they convincingly forged James, would you reveal information to him? Or would you trust something he told you?”

“Yes, Q, I find myself particularly interested in that question as well?” M had walked into the room, although he had clearly been monitoring the training exercise. “Why do you have Agent Bond protecting your subconscious?” M gave Q an appraising look. Q blushed and ducked his head at the scrutiny. “Perhaps we should see if Agent Bond can help clear up some of the confusion, hmm?” M turned toward Moneypenny and said, “Please see if you can track down 007 and ask him to join us.”

Arthur walked over to Eames and asked quietly, “So your ex-boyfriend is a secret agent for MI6? Should I be worried?”

“Well, you know I have a thing for dangerous men in nice suits,” Eames teased. “But it appears he’s taken,” Eames nodded toward Q, “as am I, if you recall. So no worries, darling.” Eames reached over and hooked a finger through Arthur’s belt loop, pulling him closer. “Besides, I wasn’t lying when I called you the deadliest man I know,” Eames leered at Arthur meaningfully. Arthur’s responding eye roll was mostly for show, as a wave of affection rolled over him. He felt his blood pressure going down with Eames’ touch.

They both looked up as the tall attractive blond man from the dream strode through the door without knocking. “Moneypenny said you wanted to see me--” he started saying to M, stopping suddenly as he saw Q and then Eames and Arthur standing around the PASIV with its tubing still out and leading toward their empty chairs. “Eames?” He asked, looking shocked. “What are you—Why are you--What’s going on?” 

“Hi Jamie, it’s been a while,” Eames grinned.

“As touching as this unexpected reunion is,” M cut in “we actually have more pressing matters to deal with at the moment, Bond. Starting with the exact nature of your relationship with our Quartermaster.”

Bond’s eyes darted toward Q, and then returned to M. “Of course,” he said smoothly, “but I think that is a conversation we should have privately.” 

M looked at Eames and Arthur. “Certainly. Gentlemen, if you will please excuse us. I will have you escorted to your rooms and we will reconvene in the morning. Good evening.” 

***

As soon as Arthur was alone with Eames in their room, he burst out laughing. “Oh my god, are you serious? A secret agent is sleeping with the Quartermaster for MI6 and no one, in an entire agency of spies, noticed?”

Eames joined in his laughter, “Although from a human resources point of view, it’s actually more like the Quartermaster of MI6 is sleeping with one of his agents.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me the kid outranks your secret agent ex-boyfriend?”

“Well, if he’s Q, then he’s the Quartermaster, the head of the whole R&D and Weapons departments. And although I heard Jamie called 007, which means he’s one of their top operatives, technically, yes, Q would outrank him.”

“Can we talk about how absurd our life is right now? We get kidnapped by the British Government to militarize their Quartermaster, who, by the way, looks like a college student, AND who happens to be dating your dashing secret agent ex-boyfriend. And no one at MI6 had even picked up on that fact.” Arthur had a hard time getting the words out around his laughter as he leaned against Eames for support. 

Eames laughed harder, pulling Arthur down onto the bed. “That does seem to be the shape of it, darling.”

“I’d say we must be dreaming, but honestly, my dreams tend to make more sense than this. Also I wouldn’t still be missing my Glock if we were in a dream.”

“Mmm, yes, you are gloriously deadly in dreams.”

“I can also be deadly in real life,” Arthur grumbled. “If I need to be.”

“Of course you are, kitten. Did you not hear me refer to you as the deadliest man I know?” Eames teased.

“So tell me about Jamie-the-secret-agent.” Arthur said, snuggling up against Eames as he settled into a sitting position against the headboard.

“Hmmm, well, he wasn’t a secret agent back then, just a naval officer. It was ages ago, back when I was in the navy, before I got recruited to Project Somnacin. Apparently he got recruited by MI6. ” Eames went quiet for a moment.

Arthur reviewed what he knew about Eames’ background. They had both been in their respective countries’ militaries before being recruited for Project Somnacin, the military experiment with dreamsharing. After most of Arthur’s fellow soldiers had been lost to limbo, or woken up to then eat their own service revolvers, the US military had abandoned the project, creating new identities for the surviving members of the team and discharging them.

Judging by Eames’ comments to M, the British project had been continued, despite the early losses. Eames didn’t like to talk about what his team had worked on, and Arthur didn’t press. He didn’t like reopening his old wounds either. Arthur knew that Eames’ team had been disbanded, and Eames had resigned his commission from the Royal Navy, severing his ties with the military.

“So what they say about British sailors is true then, ‘rum, sodomy, and the lash,” Arthur teased slightly, not wanting to bring back painful memories.

Eames grinned. “Well the lash wasn’t generally used by the time I was in the navy, and we’d drink what we could get, not just rum, but yes, I certainly enjoyed my fair share of sodomy. We weren’t out sailing much though. Jamie and I met when I was in training. He was fit, tall, and blond, and had these ice blue eyes. He looked divine in uniform – that arse was a thing of beauty.” 

“It still is a thing of beauty. I saw him walk out of the room earlier,” Arthur added. “What?” he responded to Eames look of shock, “I’m not blind. And just because I look past your ridiculous outfits doesn’t mean I don’t still appreciate a well-tailored suit on another man.”

“’I’m just a little surprised, love.” Eames pressed a kiss to the back of Arthur’s neck.

“That I like hot men and nice suits?” Arthur asked. “Eames, I hate to break it to you, but I am exceedingly gay.”

“Yes, darling, I am actually aware of that,” Eames pressed another kiss to Arthur’s neck, “I’m usually the lucky beneficiary of your love of both ‘hot men and nice suits’.” Eames nibbled behind Arthur’s ear. “That appreciation, however, has historically not been extended toward anyone I have a history with. Not that I mind overly much, darling. Your jealously is rather flattering. But it does tend to put our colleagues off when you throw them off a job just for flirting a bit.”

“For god’s sake, that was ONE time, Eames. And Clive wasn’t flirting a bit, he was sexually harassing you, AFTER you had already said no! Just because you had sex with him 5 years ago doesn’t mean he’s entitled to your dick at any future time. And if he can’t listen topside, what makes you think he was going to listen in the dream. There’s a reason I’m the best point man. I don’t tolerate sloppiness on my jobs.” Arthur sat up defensively. “And he grabbed your ass. Your ass is mine.”

“Not really disproving my point, darling. Although you’re correct, Clive was an unusually enormous arsehole.” Eames pulled Arthur back down against him, wrapping his arms around him. “Let’s just say that you’ve made it very clear to those aware of our relationship in the dreamshare community that dreams are the _only_ thing you’re willing to share. Regardless, this new development where you check out my ex’s bum instead of snapping at him is quite interesting.”

“Mmm, well, it really was excellent. Top form, A++, would ogle again” Arthur teased, while pressing his own bum against Eames’ lap. “You said ‘all sorts of gems’ earlier. What was the other gem?”

“Oh, that apparently you have a bit of an exhibitionist streak. Don’t think I didn’t notice your reaction to the idea of being watched, and getting caught.” Eames pressed back against Arthur’s gorgeous arse, letting him feel how hard he was. “Do you think they’re watching us now,” Eames whispered against Arthur’s ear, “shall we give them a show?” 

Arthur’s cock, which had already been somewhat interested in the proceedings, as it usually was when he was pressed up against his boyfriend, leapt to full attention. He felt himself blush all the way to the tips of his ears, but he didn’t let his embarrassment stop him from pulling Eames’ hand down and pressing it over the bulge in his trousers.

“Shall I take that as a yes, darling?” Eames said, wickedly, palming Arthur’s prick. Arthur moaned, leaning his head back against Eames’ shoulder, allowing Eames to kiss and bite his neck, while rubbing his cock through his pants. Eames loved having Arthur sprawled out like this, his perfectly professional point man messy and wanton and begging. Eames paid particular attention to the junction of Arthur’s shoulder and neck, biting and sucking a mark into it that would sit _just_ below Arthur’s collar. No one else would see it, but Eames would know it was there. And he would have the pleasure of watching Arthur absently touch it while he was focused on some other part of the job. Eames traced the outline of Arthur’s prick against his trousers while giving a final lick to the mark on Arthur’s neck.

“Fuck!” Arthur gasped as Eames directed his attention more fully to his cock. “You’re going to make me come in my pants if you keep that up.”

“We can’t have that, pet. Not when you could come in my mouth or my arse.” Eames unzipped Arthur’s trousers with one hand, slipping beneath the elastic of his pants to take hold of his prick. He wrapped his hand around Arthur’s velvety softness, running his circled fingers up and down lightly, rather than providing the pressure Arthur sought.

“Your mouth, your mouth. God I want your mouth” Arthur moaned. “Christ, Eames!” Arthur yelped as Eames ran his thumb over the tip of Arthur’s cock, spreading the leaking precum over the head. “Mr. Eames, if my cock is not in your mouth in ten seconds, there will be serious consequences.”

“Yes, sir,” Eames grinned and then flipped Arthur over onto his back, yanked down his trousers and pants, and swallowed him down.

Arthur looked down at Eames’s gorgeous lips surrounding his cock. His mouth had clearly been made to suck cock, as Arthur had told Eames many times. His plush red lips only looked better with a cock between them, or swollen and abused after he had finished. And his tongue. God his tongue was a gift and a fucking menace. Arthur gasped as he watched Eames hollow his cheeks and felt the suction that resulted. Sometimes Eames teased him, rubbing his cock against his lips, or giving it long licks just so Arthur could watch. Sometimes he simply loosened his jaw and let Arthur fuck his mouth. And sometimes, he put all of his considerable skills to use giving the best fucking blowjobs Arthur had ever experienced. Arthur wondered how many of Eames’ other partners had appreciated the sight of Eames’s obscene mouth stretched around their pricks, fully focused on their pleasure. An image of Eames on his knees, sucking off his secret agent boyfriend, popped into his brain. Suddenly, Arthur’s balls tightened and he came hard, with a strangled moan. Eames’ eyes widened as he swallowed around Arthur’s cock, the contracting muscles making Arthur come harder. Eames backed off, swallowing the rest of the load, and then gently licking Arthur’s prick clean. Arthur moaned again, feeling Eames’ tongue against his cock. He pulled Eames up and kissed him hard, tasting his own come.

“I didn’t realize how far gone you were, pet,” Eames murmured against Arthur’s mouth.

“You are truly phenomenal at sucking cock,” Arthur said, blushing slightly.

“Well yes, but you hardly even let me get started. I’m not sure I can take credit for that one, kitten” Eames smirked.

“I might have imagined you sucking off Bond,” Arthur muttered, embarrassed, but feeling his cock trying to stir as he vocalized the image that made him come.

“Darling, you’re just full of surprises today. Lovely sexy surprises.” Eames thrust his hips into Arthur’s. Arthur bit back a yelp as the fabric of Eames’ trousers rubbed against Arthur’s over-sensitized cock. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to prep you while you tell me all about the fantasy that made you come like a teenager. And then I’m going to fuck you, long and slow, until you come again for me. And then if anyone is watching us, they’ll have gotten a full show.” Arthur whimpered as his cock attempted to stir again.

Eames turned Arthur over onto his front, grabbed the lube from their bag and began opening him up. Arthur moaned as he pressed against the bed, the sensations beginning to overwhelm him. “Use your words, darling. If you can describe what you were thinking about that made you come so hard for me, I’ll add another finger.”

“I was just thinking—ahhh—how good you look with your lips wrapped around my cock. Your lips are gorgeous, just made to suck cock. Ohhhh!” Arthur moaned as Eames pushed a second finger into him. “And then I wondered if anyone else had ever realized how perfect you look with a cock in your mouth. And then all I could think about was you on your knees, sucking off your secret-agent boyfriennnnnn” Eames added a third finger, brushing his prostate as he pushed deeper, forcing Arthur to finish his sentence with a moan. “Fuck, Eames, fuck me, please, I need your cock inside of me. Please fuck me, please, please, fuck me.”

Eames slicked himself up and started to push slowly into Arthur. “Shall I tell you about sucking off James Bond?” Arthur moaned in response, trying to push back against Eames, despite the hands on his hips holding him still. “I definitely sucked his cock, although I’m not sure he, or anyone, has taken quite as much pleasure in watching me suck their cock as you do, darling. But what he really liked was for me to fuck him. Just like I’m fucking you. I’d peel him out of his uniform and prepare that gorgeous arse, licking him out, or stretching him with my fingers, until he was ready to take my cock. Are you imagining that now, darling?”

Arthur was imagining that. The very attractive secret agent spread out on the bed under Eames, as Eames tormented him with his lovely mouth and tongue before sliding his cock into that perfect ass. He realized that between the scenario Eames was describing and the way his cock kept brushing his prostate, he was hard as a rock again. A very painful, over-stimulated rock. “Jesus Christ, Eames,” Arthur gasped.

“This really is doing it for you, isn’t it, pet? Lucky for you, I’m almost certainly going to have to forge Jamie in order to help militarize Q. Would you like that? Would you like to have a chance to fuck him like I used to?” Eames’ thrusts sped up, revealing his own interest in the scenario.

Arthur moaned as he weakly came again, pain and pleasure overlapping. Eames tipped over the edge as he felt Arthur’s arse contract around him, spilling into his perfect tight heat.

***

The hazards of fantasizing about ex-boyfriends while working with them quickly became apparent the next day, when Arthur was attempting to focus on militarizing Q, but kept sneaking glances at Bond instead. It turned out that yes, Q and Bond _were_ in a relationship, even if they had neglected to file the appropriate paperwork with HR. There didn’t seem to be much of a problem beyond that, apparently, because they were still supposed to be militarizing Q’s subconscious against extraction and inception, and Bond was still there with them.

“Okay, so you already have some natural defenses going with your Bond projection, which means we should be able to build on that. However, due to the nature of your relationship with Agent Bond, that means he’s also going to be the biggest risk to your subconscious security,” Arthur closed his notebook, looking up at Q, pointedly not looking at Bond, trying not to visualize the nature of their relationship. For someone who was often accused of lacking imagination, his brain had chosen a rather inconvenient time to start dreaming bigger.

“What does that mean?” asked Q.

“You trust Jamie,” Eames jumped in, earning a glare from Bond, “which means that he could be used against you in your mind. You’d be willing to tell him things, and you’d believe him if he told you things. Which is very useful information if the team invading your mind has a forger.” Q looked startled at this thought.

“Which is why we’re going to set up some safeguards, and we’re going to practice,” Arthur continued smoothly. “Mr. Eames here will forge Agent Bond so that you can practice telling the difference between your projection, the real thing, and a pretender. While Mr. Eames goes to talk to Agent Bond to get more intel for his forgery, you and I are going to talk about safeguards and totems.”

Q looked uncomfortable as Eames and Bond left the room. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Doesn’t what bother me?” Arthur asked.

“That they used to date.”

“Bother would not be the correct word,” Arthur said dryly, remembering the previous night. “No, it doesn’t. I’m a bit surprised it bothers you, though. My understanding was that double-O agents are not exactly known for their fidelity.”

“Well, no, but that’s work. That’s different. And I’m listening in on the comm the whole time anyway.” Q blushed slightly. “But this was a relationship. James isn’t exactly known for those. So Eames must have been something special. I mean, he calls him ‘Jamie,’” Q finish in an awed whisper.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. Q was listening in on the comm when his boyfriend was seducing other people? Apparently he wasn’t the only kinky bastard in the room. Eames’ absence saved them from a slew of inappropriate comments, luckily. “It was a long time ago. Before either of them was in their current line of work. The way Eames described it, I think it was somewhere between a fling and a ‘friends with benefits’ scenario, so I’m not even sure ‘relationship’ is the right word to describe it. Regardless, they are both currently in relationships now and I trust them to be professionals, just as I’m sure they trust us to be professionals.” 

Q blushed again at Arthur’s last sentence. Arthur’s other eyebrow lifted to join the first. Was Q thinking unprofessional thoughts? Or had they been watched last night and he knew about Arthur’s distinctly unprofessional thoughts.

“Anyway, we should get back to work. What was the totem thing you were talking about?” Q changed the subject awkwardly.

Arthur gratefully let Q turn the conversation back to the matter at hand. “A totem is something that you have that lets you know whether you are dreaming or awake. No one else should touch it. No one else should know exactly what it feels like to you so that they can’t use it to trick you into believing you’re awake. It should be something small that you can keep on your person at all times. I have a loaded die. Only I know the weight of it, how it feels when I throw it.” Arthur held out his die for Q to look at. “You’ll want to make yourself a totem. That will be one level of security for your subconscious.”

“Okay so a totem is part one. Why do I need to be able to tell the difference between real James and dream James? Can’t I just check my totem?”

“Totems aren’t a guarantee. They can get lost or taken away from you, both in the dream world and the real world. And if you don’t suspect you’re dreaming, you won’t know to check your totem,” Arthur responded, settling back into his familiar teaching role.

“How am I supposed to practice telling the difference between my projection of James, the real James, and a forger? Won’t I know I’m asleep and be suspicious and just check my totem at that point?” Q asked. 

“We’ll set up scenarios where you don’t know you’re asleep. Instead of sitting you down and hooking you up to the PASIV with your consent and cooperation, we’ll run it more like a job, as if we were the team going after you. We’ll sedate you, then hook you up, and then run different scenarios to see if you can identify the fake James. Then after you wake up we’ll debrief to see how you did and discuss what we can improve.” Arthur paused, thinking through the next step. “The other thing you’ll want to do is set up some sort of code with James. If it becomes known that you are together, you can be used against each other. If the real James is pulled into a dream with you, you’ll want some way to establish that it’s really him, and that it’s really you, and how you want the other to behave.”

“Okay,” Q responded. “What sort of code should it be? Like a passphrase? Or hand signal?”

“Whatever you want. The most important thing is that is has to be absolutely secret. No one else can know. And no one else should be able to guess. And not something someone might say by accident. Because if a forger is able to figure it out, they’ll use it against you, obviously. And if you have to use it in-dream, you have to change it afterward, so don’t get too attached to it.” 

“So it’s like a one time use password. As soon as it’s used it’s deleted from the system,” Q nodded.

“Exactly. So you can talk to Bond about that later. And think about what you want to use for your totem. Now we’re just going to do some basic lucid dreaming exercises, to get you used to the dreamscape. Try not to sic your boyfriend on me please.” Arthur said, crisply. 

***

“Did you have fun with ‘Jamie’?” Arthur asked; grinning as Eames walked in the door to the room MI6 had provided them. 

“Well, I got to tease him about dating a uni student and he pointed out that I still hadn’t gotten over my ‘fetish for fit blokes in nice suits with tight trousers,’ and then I spent the rest of the day learning as much as I could about him to accurately forge him to trick his boyfriend. So it was interesting, to say the least,” Eames flopped down on the bed.

“Mmm, he might be young, but he’s certainly no innocent. Did you know that he listens in on the comms when Bond is seducing a mark?” Arthur crawled onto the bed next to Eames, amused at the gossip he got to share. Eames sat up and looked at him. “And you’re not the only one who enjoys ‘a fit bloke in a nice suit with tight trousers,’ judging by how inappropriately tight the trousers got on Q’s projections of Bond by the end of the day.” 

Eames ran his hands over Arthur’s own tight trousers. “That would explain why Jamie seemed a bit unnerved at the idea of Q spending the day alone with you. More so than at the prospect of me forging him.” 

“Well, to be fair, he probably didn’t have any idea what else you’re planning to do with your forge of him,” Arthur teased. “So did he really say I was a ‘fit bloke’?” Arthur asked, coquettishly.

“Don’t fish for complements, you little minx. You know exactly how good you look in one of your suits,” Eames playfully growled.

“It’s just nice to be appreciated,” Arthur said primly.

“Not that I’m complaining, but you don’t normally enjoy expressions of appreciation while you’re working. I can testify from experience that commenting on your considerable assets, or should I say ‘arsets’ tends to result in a death glare.” Eames grabbed hold of the aforementioned arsets.

“I don’t know, there’s something rather freeing about working outside the dreamshare community. I don’t feel like I have to protect my image quite so much. I was still so young when I got out of the service and got started in non-military dreamshare. I didn’t have my uniform as protection anymore. I wanted to be taken seriously. I know they take me seriously here – hell, they kidnapped us and used you to extort me into working for them because of how seriously they take me. And quite honestly, your ex is incredibly hot, so it’s flattering to be appreciated by him. And his boyfriend’s not bad either.”

“Oh really,” Eames let go of Arthur’s ass to push down on Arthur’s shoulders and loom over him. “ _Should_ we be worried about leaving the two of you alone?” Arthur ignored the question, and instead stretched up to capture Eames’ mouth.

“Apparently Q was a bit nervous about you and Bond. I guess he doesn’t really do ‘relationships’ so the reappearance of an actual boyfriend was worrisome.” Arthur reached behind Eames to grab his ass and pull him down on top of him. 

“Oh relationship is being rather generous. And implies the presence of more feelings than were actually involved. We were very young, very randy, and very willing to embrace our bisexuality if it meant getting laid.” Eames ground his hips against Arthur’s.

“Embracing your bisexuality, is that what we’re calling it now?” Arthur teased and pushed back, giving Eames’ ass another substantial squeeze for good measure. 

“Mmm, feel free to keep doing that,” Eames arched into the contact. “I think their relationship might be a bit newer than ours. And Q is unquestionably younger and less experienced than Jamie is. I can understand why he might be uncomfortable.”

“Apparently they hadn’t filed the proper paperwork with HR, yet” Arthur laughed. “Can you imagine if we had to file paperwork?”

Eames chortled, “Well, that would suggest a certain level of legality that our current profession lacks.”

“Arthur and Eames will be working jobs together for the foreseeable future to avoid incompetent team members getting one of them killed.”

“It does save us the trouble of having to hunt down and murder people after the fact,” Eames said, thoughtfully. 

“It should be understood that Arthur values professionalism and will not tolerate any teasing or inappropriate references to his relationship with Eames.”

“Except from me, of course, darling!” Eames grinned.

“This is your official warning that Eames speaks exclusively in sexual innuendos when working with Arthur, which may result a hostile workplace.” Arthur deadpanned. 

“Oh Darling, I did that before we were in a relationship,” Eames grinned. “I think everyone’s well aware of that one.”

“I’m still not sure why I ever agreed to work with you again, let alone date you,” Arthur grumbled. 

“Well, to the first, I’m very good at what I do, and to the second,” Eames ground his hips against Arthur’s again, feeling their hardening lengths press against each other, “I’m _very_ good at what I do.”

“You’re terrible.”

“You can’t fool me, you love it.” 

“I love _you_ ,” Arthur corrected, “I just tolerate the rest of it so I can be with you.” The severity of his words was belied by the look of adoration he gave Eames.

“I love you too, darling.” Eames’s tone was full of tender fondness as he covered Arthur’s mouth in a kiss.

***

“So what horrors do you have for me today?” Q asked as he watched Arthur enter.

“No horrors, I hope. Just more training. Did you make your totem?”

Q held up a flash drive that looked like a cat, the tail looped around to allow it to be attached to a keychain or cord.

“Okay, don’t let anyone else touch it. You need to know the feel of it perfectly. Did you come up with passphrases with Agent Bond?” Arthur flipped through his moleskin notebook, checking things off.

“Yes. And I know, I don’t tell you those either. You might not have noticed, but I am actually a genius, you don’t have to keep repeating things.”

“Force of habit.” Arthur apologized.

“Do you do this for a lot of people?” Q asked.

“As I’m sure you’re well aware, I do militarizations fairly commonly, usually for corporate clients. I also train a lot of new dreamsharers. I have stable dreams and good control over my projections. Which you may have noticed. Normally you can’t make substantial changes to other peoples’ dreams without being torn apart by the projections.”

“So what else are we doing today?” Q asked.

“Could you take me to Q branch? I’d like to see where you work.” Arthur asked, casually.

“Why would you need to see Q branch?” Q asked suspiciously.

“It would be helpful to have it as a reference when we want to test the effectiveness of your precautions,” Arthur said smoothly.

“Mmm, no. I’m quite sure you’re not supposed to leave this room while you’re in headquarters,” Q said firmly.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Q opened the door to see Bond. “James, what are you doing here?” 

“Q, Arthur, M has asked me to escort you to Q branch,” Bond said. 

“What? No, I don’t think it’s a good idea to take a known criminal and a foreign national to the Q branch.” Q responded.

“Come along, Q, M’s orders,”

“James, I said no.” Q repeated with steel in his voice. Other operatives and staff started walking toward the open door, as if attracted to the disagreement. 

“Okay, Q, let’s just go talk to M.” Bond responded mildly, moving to escort Q out the door. Q, however, didn’t move. Instead, he pulled out his flash drive totem. He stared at it for a moment, running his fingers over it. Then he looked back up at Bond.

“This isn’t real. This is a dream. And you’re not James.” The people who had been walking toward them started moving with more purpose. And out of the crowd came a second James Bond, dressed to the nines in a tuxedo, holding a gun, which he aimed at the first Bond, shooting him right between the eyes.

“Dammit.” Arthur said, as he was rushed by projections. He pulled his trusty glock out of his shoulder holster and shot himself in the forehead.

Arthur and Eames pulled their PASIV lines out after they were shot out of the dream. They exchanged a look, wondering if they should kick Q, or just wait for him to wake himself up. The decision was made for them when Q’s eyes flew open and he flailed around, checking for his glasses, trying to get his bearings. 

“That wasn’t real. That wasn’t James.” Q said, catching his breath. 

“Obviously,” Arthur said, dryly. “I think our work here is done. You were suspicious of my suggestions, even though you thought we were training. Your projections responded to your suspicion almost immediately. You didn’t allow the false Bond to change your mind. You knew that James was fake almost instantly, and if Eames couldn’t fool you, I doubt anyone could. You used your totem to check to see if it was a dream, and when you were sure it was a dream, your projections responded instantly.”

“That’s it? We’re done?” Q asked.

“I think so. I’m not sure what else we can do for you. You seem to have a fairly high level of natural paranoia protecting you. You don’t seem to trust anyone in dreams, even if you don’t know it’s a dream. We thought you might trust Bond, but you saw through Eames almost immediately.” Arthur began packing up the PASIV.

“What was it that gave me away, anyway?” Eames asked with forced casualness. He wasn’t used to people seeing through his forges so quickly, especially when he’d been able to have one-on-one time with the subject.

“Hmm? You argued with me when I said no. James knows better than to do that.” Q responded, pulling out his flash drive totem and feeling it.

Arthur looks over at Eames, raising an eyebrow as if to say, “You missed that? You missed that dynamic?” 

Eames glared back as if to respond, “I had one day with him, and it’s not like I got to see them interact together.” 

“No, I’m sorry, this won’t do at all, gentlemen. I know you said that Mr. Eames is the best, but I think we must assume that whomever might be trying to fool me will know not only James, but will understand us both quite intimately,” Q said primly but firmly.

“I’m not sure what else you expect us to do for you, you’re as well trained as I believe I can make you. In my professional opinion, this job is complete,” Arthur shot back.

“What happens if we say we’re through?” Eames asked.

“Hmm, well, unfortunately I will have to consider the job incomplete. I believe that Mr. Eames will be taken into custody by our government on the issue of a few dozen outstanding warrants. Some nasty business with a few art thefts. And Arthur, or should I call you Mr. Branch, or, Mr. Cohen, or Mr. Darling? I quite like that one, very Peter Pan. Yes, Arthur it seems has had quite a few scrapes with various governments and organizations. And I only gave a quick look into your background last night. I’m sure I can dig up more if I devote more than ten minutes to the task. Or you can come over to dinner tonight, observe James and me, and run a few more test scenarios tomorrow, and see if you can fool me for longer than 10 minutes. You’re the best, gentlemen. I want to be tested by the best, so that I do not have to constantly worry about this threat to myself or my country.”

Arthur glared at Q, but didn’t have much recourse, so he acquiesced. Dinner it was.

****

“Thank you so much for having us to your lovely home,” Eames said, as their blindfolds were removed and he was able to look around at the minimalist apartment.

Arthur glared at him.

“Darling, just because we’re here under duress is no need to be rude.” Eames tutted.

“Thank you for joining us. Q informed me that you were going to need more time with me, with us, in order to convincingly forge me,” Bond said, smirking. “I hear you tried to argue with him.”

“Well, you may have neglected to mention some pertinent details, Jamie,” Eames needled back.

“It's James." Bond responded through clenched teeth. "I thought you were supposed to be the best? Do most of the people you forge sit down and tell you everything you need to know?”

“Mr. Eames is the best. He typically has more time to observe. And observing how someone acts naturally is very different from sitting down and having someone teach themselves to you,” Arthur responded, annoyed in defense of his partner.

“And that’s why I insisted that we have this time tonight,” Q cut in smoothly.

“Oh, that’s why you wanted to have them over for dinner?” Bond whispered quietly in Q’s ear, half of his mouth quirking up into a smile, “I thought it was because--” He cut off when Q elbowed him in the stomach.

“That’s enough out of you, James. Don’t you need to check on dinner?” Q said primly. Eames watched the exchange with rapt attention.

“So what are we having for dinner?” Arthur asked.

“Yes, it smells delicious,” Eames added.

“James made us a lovely chickpea tangine,” Q responded.

“Oh, lovely,” Eames said, delighted. Not only did he adore North African food, he was gathering all sorts of useful information for his forge of Bond.

***

After a delicious dinner, Arthur stood up, ready to leave. “No, no, sit, have a night cap with us,” James said. “Or coffee if you prefer. I’ve got some lovely biscuits for the pudding.”

Q looked up eagerly at the mention of pudding. His sweet tooth was almost as notorious as his love of tea. “Yes, please stay. I insist.” 

Arthur sat back down, defeated, and leaned over to ask Eames, “How on earth do you have biscuits for pudding. That sentence doesn’t even make sense.”

“It’s proper biscuits, not those odd savory scones you lot call biscuits. And pudding course. Not actual pudding,” Eames clarified, once again without actually adding any clarity for Arthur.

“What would you like to drink?” Bond asked, as he brought a plate of small hard chocolate dipped cookies (or biscuits) back in the room. “Tea for you, Q?” Q nodded in response, focused on the biscuits. “We have a full bar, so ask for whatever you’d like.”

“In that case, I’ll have a whisky sour,” Arthur said.

“How very American of you, darling. Well, if you’ve got whiskey, _James_ , I’ll have a Manhattan,” Eames lazed back on the sofa, slinging his arm around Arthur’s shoulders. 

“I think I do actually have a bottle of whiskey in here from the last time I was on the other side of the pond,” they heard rummaging in a cupboard.

Several minutes later, Bond emerged holding a tray tumbler with a small teapot and mug, a tumbler with Arthur’s whiskey sour, and two martini glasses, one of which was dark with a cherry, and one was clear with an olive.

“Ah, my favorite part,” Eames exclaimed and plucked the cherry from his drink, bringing it up to his lips. He sucked the alcohol off, before popping it back out of his mouth. Arthur watched the small red fruit disappear and reemerge from Eames’ luscious pink lips. Eames stretched his tongue out to pull the cherry back into his mouth, finally plucking it off its stem. Arthur hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath until he exhaled once Eames bit into the cherry. “Mmm, lovely, cheers,” Eames lifted his glass, looking up to be met with three sets of eyes, pupils blown wide, staring at him.

“Christ, James. That mouth. How did you ever manage to work with him?” Q’s voice was hoarse and broke slightly. He looked like a man in a desert staring a pool of water. 

“Well, he wasn’t usually doing _that_ at work,” Bond said quietly, his calm tone belied by his intense gaze directed at Eames’ mouth. “But yes, quite.”

“Darling, it seems like you might be about to get your wish,” Eames murmured to Arthur. 

Q’s eyes shot up to look intently at Arthur. Arthur felt like he should be embarrassed. Instead, he still felt warm from the wine at dinner, and disoriented from Eames’ obscene little display with his garnish. He took a long drink of his whiskey sour, feeling emboldened by the alcohol burning down his throat. “His mouth is a constant trial, with his smirks and his snide comments” Arthur said, wryly. “It always looks like it should have a cock in it.”

Bond barked out a laugh, “Yes, that did always improve it, as I recall.”

“Easy now, there’s no need for character assassination. You know I’m always happy to suck your cock, Pet, all you have to do is ask.” Eames leered at Arthur.

Arthur tipped back the rest of his drink. “As tempting as that is, that’s not what I want right now, Mr. Eames.” The air in the room felt electric with sexual tension. Q would have been concerned about electronics shorting out, if he had been able to focus on anything other than Eames’ mouth and Arthur’s voice. He normally found American accents crude, but there was something compelling about the dominant rhotic /r/ pushing past Arthur’s teeth.

“What do you want?” Q demanded breathily.

“He wants to watch his boyfriend suck my cock,” Bond said, his voice gravelly and his cock clearly in favor of the suggested action. 

“His mouth looks so good wrapped around a stiff cock, but it’s just so difficult to focus when it’s mine,” Arthur said, shocked at his daring, and grateful for the alcohol.

Eames cut in saying lightly, “While this is all very intense and objectifying and exceedingly hot, quick check to make sure we’re all in synch here. Jamie--” Bond glared at Eames. “James. My darling Arthur would very much enjoy watching me suck your cock. I have some very fond memories in that vein and would happily, _reminisce_. You up for it?” Eames waggled his eyebrows suggestively at the pun. Bond looked at Q.

Q’s eyes had only the faintest edge of green around his black pupils, blown up with arousal. “Yes.” 

Bond nodded affirmatively at Eames and Arthur. “Topping!” Eames said breezily. “Anyone gets uncomfortable, speak up. Now then!” Eames dropped to his knees in front of Bond and smoothly opened the flies to his trousers. Bond wasn’t wearing any pants under his trousers. “Perhaps Arthur wasn’t the only one with inappropriate wishes,” Eames said, raising an eyebrow before applying his mouth to Bond’s mostly hard cock.

“It ruins the line of the trousers,” Bond gasped.

“Christ!’ Q breathed, watching Eames perfect pink lips stretch around his lover’s prick.

Arthur took in the whole scene, Eames on his knees, just as Arthur had imagined, Bond standing in his shirtsleeves, vest, and trousers, fully clothed except for his cock jutting from his open flies, with Eames eagerly fellating it. The room was strangely quiet, outside of quick breaths, Bond’s quiet moans, and the obscene sucking sounds Eames was supplying. Bond reached down and ran his fingers gently through Eames’ hair. “God, I’d forgotten how good you were at this.”

Eames smiled around Bond’s cock, before pulling off and licking a long stripe up the underside and then swallowing him down to the root. Bond closed his eyes, his fingers tightening in Eames’ hair.

“Don’t come.” Q said quietly, but firmly. Bond groaned, but obediently pushed Eames away slightly.

Eames looked slightly disappointed, but acquiesced, sitting back on his heels and wiping his mouth, his lips red and shiny from use. “Not sure how I missed this dynamic,” he said hoarsely. “You seem to be running this show.” Eames nodded at Q. “Now you’ve gotten all of us hot and bothered, what’s next? Fancy a go yourself?” Eames licked his lips suggestively. “Or maybe you’d like me to demonstrate on Arthur?” Eames purred his partner’s name.

“Yes, that,” Q said, accepting the authority Eames offered. “I want you to suck Arthur. And then you’ll suck me off while Arthur fucks James. James, prepare yourself.” 

Arthur hands eagerly flew to his flies. “Eames,” he half-moaned as his cock sprang free from its confines. “Of course, darling,” Eames moved smoothly over to Arthur and reverently ran his hands over Arthur’s arse, nuzzling into the base of his cock. “Mmmmm, love this. Love you,” Eames murmured softly before kissing up and down Arthur’s cock. He got to the head and kissed the tip, before engulfing the whole thing.

Q watched the pair before him, who clearly had expert knowledge of the other’s body. Eames teasing Arthur with softness before overwhelming him. Arthur’s eyes were closed and his head tipped back, exposing the line of his throat. He swallowed hard at something Eames had just done, and Q found himself over behind Arthur, licking his exposed skin. Arthur moaned, and Q could feel the vibrations under his tongue. 

“What a lovely picture,” Bond walked back into the room, undressed and carrying lube and condoms. “Don’t stop on my account.” He sprawled back on the couch and pulled at his cock a few times before lubing up his fingers. “You going to peel him out of that suit, Q” Bond asked. “You’ve been itching to do that.” 

“That’s enough from you,” Q glared at Bond, blushing slightly. Arthur and Eames barely seemed to notice the exchange, or Q’s presence, except that Arthur reached up and loosened his tie and undid his top button. Q took this as an invitation to continue the process, pulling the tie off entirely, kissing and licking as he exposed more of Arthur’s throat. Q felt Arthur’s breath hitch in his throat just before Eames pulled off. 

“Can’t have you spend before you get to experience Jamie’s arse. It’s a work of art,” Eames said, his voice rough from its abuse. 

Arthur kept his eyes closed as he grasped the base of his cock firmly, trying to calm himself. Eames worked with Q to divest Arthur of the rest of his suit. Arthur looked at Eames, raising an eyebrow at the crumpled trousers pushed aside on the floor. “Bloody hell,” Eames muttered fondly as he picked up the trousers and the rest of Arthur’s clothing and draped them over the back of a chair.

“Q still hasn’t learned how to treat a suit properly,” Bond grunted, pushing a second lubed finger into his arse. 

“One more comment out of you, and I won’t let you come when Arthur fucks you.” Q said primly. Bond merely smirked in response.

“How do you want them, Q?” Eames asked, brushing his knees as he stood up. “Arthur wants you to watch.”

Arthur groaned and squeezed the base of his cock again, which had jumped at the mention of Q watching. Eames gave him a wink.

‘On your knees, Double-oh-seven,” Q ordered crisply. “You are not to come until I tell you. Are you ready?” He walked behind Bond, lubed up two fingers and slid them into his partner. “Very nice. Arthur, are you ready?”

“More than,” Arthur responded, grabbing the condom Eames handed to him and sliding it on. He walked over behind Bond, openly admiring the older man’s chiseled physique. “Christ you look amazing.”

“Mmmm, yes, he does,” Q purred possessively. “And he’s going to be so good for you, Arthur. Won’t you, James.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Always,” Bond responded, a hint of a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes and mouth, and then raising his arse higher in the air, wordlessly begging for Arthur’s cock.

“Give us a sec, Double-oh-seven,” Q responded. “I want a good view. Arthur’s got a lovely cock and I want to watch him sink it into your delectable arse. Mr. Eames, if you would attend to me.”

“It seems that’s my cue,” Eames paused “From Q.” Eames smirked as Arthur rolled his eyes before pressing a kiss against Arthur’s mouth. “Enjoy, darling.” Eames walked over to Q and sank to his knees. He gleefully licked Q’s tumescent prick, which Q had already pulled out from his pants and trousers.

“Sweet Jesus,” Q said reverently as Eames began to suck his cock in earnest. “Arthur, you may proceed when ready.” 

“Does he always talk like that?” Arthur asked, as he slicked up his cock and began to press into Bond’s waiting hole.

“Mmm hmm” Bond affirmed with pleasure. 

“And that does it for you? No wonder you like having him in your ear on missions,” Arthur responded, pushing in further. Once he was fully ensconced, he waited a moment, letting them both adjust. Bond started pushing back, urging Arthur to move.

“I saw that, James. I don’t know what makes you think you can get away with impudence even if I’m not the one fucking you.” Q said imperiously, or as imperiously as he could when Eames was doing something amazing with his tongue that made Q want to spend like a teenager.

Arthur took the hint, however, and began thrusting into Bond’s exquisite arse. “Fuck, Eames was right, your ass is incredible.” He grabbed onto Bond’s hips to get better leverage. Bond raised his fist to his mouth to muffle his moan, using only one arm to support himself. Arthur groaned at this display of strength and came hard, slumping over Bond’s back. 

“Q, please,” Bond moaned.

“Fuck,” Q groaned, “Not yet, James. Not yet.” He gently pushed Eames back. “Do you want to fuck him,” he asked, nodding over toward Bond.

“Mmm, tempting, but feel free. I want Arthur,” Eames responded, his voice raspy after servicing three men. He got up and went over to where Arthur was slumped over Bond. “Come on, love. Up you go.”

James flipped over onto his back once Eames removed Arthur from it. “Did I tell you to move, Double-oh-seven?” Q asked severely, his voice tight with desire. Bond smiled and pulled Q down for a kiss. “No, but I wanted you,” he said softly.

Q slapped Bond lightly on the thigh. “Impertinent.” But he slicked himself up and pushed into Bond’s already stretched arse. “Oh lord, I’m not going to last.” Q pounded into Bond, leaning down to kiss his lover. The change in angle had the effect both of hitting Bond’s prostate and rubbing over his rock hard weeping cock. “Q, Q, Q” Bond chanted softly, a prayer and a plea. “Yes, James, come for me, come for me.” Q increased his speed, losing control as Bond came hard and hot between their stomachs.

In the meantime, Eames had stripped off his clothes, freeing his straining prick. He lay himself down with Arthur, who was sleepy and pliable from the orgasm and the alcohol. Arthur kissed him. “You taste like cock,” he wrinkled his nose.

Eames laughed as he lubed his hand and wrapped it around his cock, nuzzling against Arthur’s neck, breathing him deep. “I have had a few of those in my mouth this evening, pet.”

“Mmm, your fucking mouth, I love your fucking mouth” Arthur murmured. “Here, let me help.” He wrapped his hand around Eames’ on his cock, running his thumb over the head.

“More darling, just like that,” Eames moaned into Arthur’s neck. It wouldn’t take much; Eames was so worked up after sucking three cocks, he he felt ready to explode. Arthur increased his speed, twisting his hand at the end of his stroke, which was enough to push Eames over the edge. 

“Love you,” Arthur mumbled against Eames forehead, kissing him gently. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me, love, thank our accommodating hosts,” Eames said playfully, looking over at Q snuggled up on top of Bond, similarly exchanging soft words and kisses. He cuddled with Arthur another few minutes, then extricated himself and went in search of damp flannels. He tossed one down onto Q and Bond, startling Q. “You might want this before you become permanently attached.” Q looked embarrassed, Bond looked amused. “Thanks,” Bond said. 

“Not at all,” Eames responded cheerfully, as he went over to clean up Arthur. “So love, was it everything you hoped?” 

“That was amazing,” Arthur said, accepting the offered flannel. He wiped himself off and then stood up and awkwardly started re-dressing. “Um, so about tomorrow...”

Q had pulled his clothes to some semblance of back on, but remained sitting on the sofa, looking slightly mortified. “Did that just happen? This is real life, not a dream, right?”

“Check your totem,” Arthur instructed stiffly. Q did, and apparently satisfied that it was real, shoved it back in his pocket. 

“Well lads, that was delightful. None of this embarrassment now, we all had a good time, right?” Eames attempted to diffuse the situation through a thick application of charm. Bond stood next to Q on the sofa silently laughing to himself. “Everyone performed quite admirably, I must say.”

It seemed to be working. “So we’ll see you bright and early tomorrow to run some more tests, Q? And then if you’re satisfied, we’ll be on our merry way, yes?” 

“Oh I think he’s very satisfied,” Bond quipped. Q glared at him. 

“Yes, of course. Tomorrow.”

“We’ll just be off then. Do we need the blindfolds again, or is it different now that we’ve seen each other’s bits and bobs?” 

“Unfortunately, Mr. Eames, it’s a security requirement. I’ll call the driver up,” Q stood up to retrieve his phone and another biscuit. He took a sip of his tea and made a horrified face. “Ugh, it’s gone cold.” 

“I’ll make you another pot,” Bond stood up and walked toward the kitchen. 

"Thank you, James," Q called after him. 

Eames stretched and finally redressed himself. “Now that would be an accomplishment. An orgy fast enough that the tea stays hot,” he joked and helped himself to a biscuit. 

*** 

Arthur and Eames got back to their MI6 supplied room without incident.

“So that was interesting,” Eames said lightly. 

“I’m still not sure how this is our life,” Arthur responded, chuckling as he snuggled into his partner’s embrace. “But it was quite an experience. Not something I’d like to do regularly, however.” 

“Mmm, this didn’t open your eyes to the delights of orgy parties? You don’t have a burning desire to quit dreamshare and start a super exclusive secret sex club?”

“No I don’t think so," Arthur said dryly. "Hopefully tomorrow goes well though, so we can be on our way home.” 

“Still Paris, you think, love?” 

“Mmmm, or maybe Australia if your warrants are expunged there. I haven’t been to Melbourne in ages.”

“I think it’s pronounced ‘Melben,’ darling.”

“Go to sleep, Mr. Eames.”


End file.
